Page 72 of Hopeless Romantic
Beckett spun around, sniffing. “Dad, is that smoke?”
Only Dad was gone. He’d disappeared into the kitchen the second he saw she wasn’t looking. Hands dug into her hips, she looked off to the left. “Dad?”
“The pizza’s a little overdone, but definitely edible,” came from the kitchen.
“Describe edible?” she called into the house; then she, too, disappeared after her father, dropping her bag on the tile and leaving the front door wide open.
Not wanting to let the heat out, Levi stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Sticking to the promise he’d made earlier to wait until she invited him in, he didn’t go farther than the entry. Not that he needed to in order to see what was happening.
From his vantage point, he could look right into the kitchen. The lights were on, the table was set, but that’s where the dinner’s-ready picture ended. The fridge was wide open, one of the chairs was turned over, and salad fixings were strewn from the table to the counter. A crispy black pizza sat on the stovetop, still smoking. Another lay cheese-side-down on the floor in front of the garbage can, red sauce and pepperoni splattered on the wall behind.
It looked like a crime scene. A pizza burglary gone wrong.
“What happened?” Beckett gasped.
“I put the pizza in the oven, went back to the studio. By the time I got back, the pizza was on the floor, and Thomas was upset because—”
“T-O-M-M-Y. Tommy,” came from the front room.
“—it wasn’t the right kind.”
Christ!How could Mr. Hayes keep missing the point? Was he riling up his kid on purpose? How fucking hard was it to use the name Tommy? Especially when the alternative was clearly pissing his son off.
Beckett acted as if it were no biggie, even encouraging her dad to walk her through what happened next, when she would be within her rights to strangle him.
“I must have accidentally grabbed a pepperoni instead of plain cheese. Honestly, honey, I don’t know what happened.”
Neither did Levi. Jeffery was looking at the red smears on the walls, as if he hadn’t the faintest idea what had transpired. Tommy was on his feet again, going in circles and spelling out his name, like a jellybean-fueled NASCAR driver. And Levi was dizzy just listening to the conversation.
He could only imagine what was going through Beckett’s mind. Then she took in a deep breath, which lifted her shoulders, her chin, and that “so this is life” bravery she clung so tightly to, and suddenly he got a clue as to what she dealt with daily.
“Hey, Tommy,” Levi said quietly, afraid the kid would spin himself sick again. “Why don’t you help me pick up those jellybeans before the rug is just one big red circle.”
“I don’t like the red ones. They make me hyper,” he said, moving to circle Levi. “Dad burned the pizza. The alarm was loud.”
“I know, I heard it,” he said calmly. “But it’s over now.”
“It hurt my ears.”
Watching Beckett deal with the aftermath of what he’d promised would be a fun night out hurt Levi’s heart. She’d tried to explain things, but he’d selfishly dismissed her concerns.
Remembering that redirection was a parent’s greatest tool, Levi said, “Do you think it was too loud for Gregory Pecker?”
“Yes.” Tommy stopped on a dime, the dog collapsing at his feet. “Chickens hear better than humans. They even regrow damaged hearing cells, so their hearing remains top-notch throughout their lives. It is their keen sense of hearing that alerts them to predators so loud noises can make them stressed or anxious. Yes. The alarm was too loud for Gregory.”
“Do you want to make sure he’s okay?”
“I do.” He smiled and then led the dog into his bedroom.
Levi scraped a few jellybeans off the tile by his feet, then placed them in a vase on the entry table. He was about to gather the ones in the front room when Jeffery said, “I must have lost track of time. The next thing I knew, someone was pounding on my studio door, the smoke detector was going off, and smoke was coming out of the oven. I hit the detector with the broom until it was on the floor, but there was no saving dinner.”
“Why didn’t you set the timer to remind you?” she asked.
“I don’t like the sound of it going off.” To prove it, he picked up a small plastic bug-shaped timer from the back of the stove, walked to the garbage can, and stepped on the release lever, then tossed it inside.
The action wasn’t so much aggressive as it was a tantrum. But it was concerning enough to have Levi ready to abandon his post to put himself between father and daughter. Not only did Jeffery have a good six inches and sixty pounds on his daughter, he also didn’t appear to handle stress all that well.
Beckett, on the other hand, was dialing it in at cucumber-cool, her emotions completely in check as she retrieved the alarm from the trash.
